


if I keep loving you, maybe you'll eventually crack and love me, too

by PanicsOnTheHorizon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cliques, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Self-Harm, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicsOnTheHorizon/pseuds/PanicsOnTheHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"I'm Zhenya," the new kid said, his accent overbearing. "You can call Geno."</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>"I'm James. But you can me Sir Fucks Everything Up." The Russian gave him a startled look, so the Canadian sighs and clarifies, "That was a joke."</em></p><p> </p><p>  <em>The new kid- Geno- blushed and looked down into his lap, a smile twitching on his lips. And something about that sight made the Canadian battered heart warm up in a way it hadn't in years.</em></p><p> </p><p>Or the one where James is completly okay fucking up the rest of his life, no matter what Beau has to say about it. But he starts to reconsider it when a certain Russian exchange student comes barreling into his world, flipping it upside, and showing the one thing James had hopelessly stopped believing in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if I keep loving you, maybe you'll eventually crack and love me, too

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've ever tried writing something as serious as this. I actually started writing this as something to use as a release of my own frustrations on life. But once i started, i wanted to give it an actual shot at being something. You must know that, obviously, this has no reflection on any of the characters actual lives.
> 
> Any and all fuck ups are mine.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy!

James leaned over his toilet, fighting another wave of nausea. You think he'd be used to these hangovers by now, but nope. They still fucking sucked.

He finally mustered enough energy to get up and splash his sweat ridden face with cold water as his phone started blaring 'Stay Away From My Friends by Pierce the Veil'. That could only be one person.

"What do you want, Beau?" James all but spat into his phone.

"Whoaa, dude. You sound like shit!" The concern in Beau's voice made him want to hurl again. "What's up?"

"Doesn't matter." James ran a shaky hand through what seemeed to be his permanetly unkempt hair.

"The hell it doesn't, Neal." Oh, great. He's pissed. "I'll be over in five."

James grimaced. "But Beau.."

"No buts!" The California native hung up before James got another chance to input his resistance.

Dropping his phone to the ground, the Canadian looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks ashen, and his hair sticking up in unnatural directions. He hated himself.

He pushed himself away from the counter, unable to continue looking at the stranger in the mirror. If only he could be like Beau. Perfect tan, perfect smile, perfect abs. Everything James couldn't(and would never) be.

~ 8 years earlier ~

_James bursted through the door, soccer ball slung under his arm. He just scored the game winning shot in his friend's game and he couldn't wait to tell his mom._

_He openeed his mouth to suck in the air necessary to call for his mom, but was stopped short by the sound of yelling._

_"How could you do this to us, again?" His mom's voice was coming from the kitchen. And it sounded like she was crying._

_He heard his dad say something, but was unable to make out his slurred words._

_It was silent for a split second before James heard a loud noise and then his mother sob and yell "No!"_

_He gasped then bolted up the stairs to his room where he jumped on top of the covers and smashed a pillow over his head._

_James didn't know how long it was before his mom came into his room and sat next to him. "Hey, sweetie. I ordered some pizza for dinner." She whispered, smoothing his shirt against his back. He slowly removed the pillow from his face and turned to look at his mom with a pout._

_"I know, baby." She bent and gingerly kissed his forehead. She gave him a small smile before standing, straightening her skirt, and leaving his room. James continued to lay there until the temptation of food became too much. He exited his bed, walking past the soccer ball holding a story that was long forgotten._

~~~

"James!" Beau called, not bothering to knock. James saw that his boyfriend, Olli, was followin dutifully.

"Damn. Do people in Cali forget to teach their kids any manners?" James chirped from his seat on the couch. Since Beau had called, he managed to change his sweat soaked shirt, down half a bottle of blue Gatorade, and made sure his house didn't smell entirely of vomit. He didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time Beau had found him like that...

The Californian had a pained look on his face, probably sharing James' thought. He sat next to him and placed a delicate hand on his knee. "Look, Nealer.."

"Don't want to fuckin' hear it, Sunshine." James snorted as miss best friend's face scrunched with disappointment. As if this was anything new.

"Whatever. I'm sorry, once again, for actually giving a shit about you." The smaller teen jerked up off the couch and strode over to his bpyfriend, who offered him a comforting hand. "And if you even decide that school is worth your time tomorrow, you better not show up shitfaced. Or I'll show you how real Cali men are taught manners."

James his head back and laughed as they left, Beau purposely slamming the door. 

_He'll be back,_ James thought sourly as he rearranged himself into a laying position. Whether he physically knocks on his door or sends him a lenghty text message, Beau never stays away for long after fights like these. But, eh, what are friends for?

James sighed as he yanked an old blanket from the back of his couch. The last thing he felt before nodding off was dread of having to start his senior year, his _last_ year, at his shitty hellhole of a high school.


End file.
